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<title>Day 22 - Mistletoe by marvel_and_mischief</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237494">Day 22 - Mistletoe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_and_mischief/pseuds/marvel_and_mischief'>marvel_and_mischief</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>December Writing Challenge [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingsman (Movies), Pedro Pascal - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:22:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237494</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_and_mischief/pseuds/marvel_and_mischief</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Whiskey comes up with a plan to get you under the mistletoe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack | Whiskey (Kingsman)/Reader, Jack | Whiskey (Kingsman)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>December Writing Challenge [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035513</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Day 22 - Mistletoe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The mistletoe was everywhere. Above his office door, hanging from the ceiling of every corridor he had to walk through, above <em>your</em> office door. He had to be careful though, his plan needed to be airtight because he had accidentally walked out of his office this morning and bumped into Agent Tequila with the mistletoe between them and although Jack raised his eyebrow suggestively and smirked in amusement, Tequila had rolled his eyes and told him he wasn’t his type. That could have been awkward. </p><p>Jack knew your schedule, it was the same everyday. You would have your lunch at 1pm and write up the previous days reports during that hour and by 2pm you were walking through the corridors to hand it into Champ’s office. So given you hadn’t suddenly rearranged your itinerary, Jack should be onto a winner. </p><p>It was also the quietest time of the day, when everybody was lethargic from the lunch break and counting down the hours until it was time to pack up and go home, so he shouldn’t have any more awkward run ins with people he didn’t want to kiss more than you. </p><p>Jack was watching the time tick by, his thumb tapping on his desk as he waited for the clock to get to two minutes to 2pm. That would give him enough time to get to your office just as you were leaving, the perfect position to be stood under the mistletoe above your door. He had planned this for weeks, from the tiny nugget of an idea of how he could show you how he felt, right up to the smallest details like timings, so this really couldn’t go wrong-</p><p>“Agent Whiskey?” Came the sound of your voice just before you politely knocked on the open door of his office. Jack gasped, trying to muffle the sound with a fake cough as he straightened up in his chair. <em>Shit</em>, he thought, <em>it’s gone wrong, it’s all gone wrong, how did this happen? Why the hell have you ruined his carefully thought out plan?</em></p><p>“Agent,” Jack cleared his throat, hoping the panic he felt in his rapidly beating heart didn’t show on his face, “what can I do for you?”</p><p>Jack was beginning to eye the mistletoe above his office door, wondering if he could get to you before you took a step into his office but that thought was useless when you hurried in and shut the door behind you. Jack heard the sound of the mistletoe hit the floor in the corridor and internally cringed. So much for that idea. </p><p>You sat down in the chair opposite him, a polite smile on your beautiful features, eyes shining with something Jack couldn’t work out which frustrated him on top of everything going wrong because he was supposed to be an observant senior Agent who was exceptional at reading people. It was part of his job for goodness sake.</p><p>“I was wondering if I could have a word about something,” you asked seriously, hands clasped together in your lap, the picture of calm and collected which was very much the opposite of what Jack was feeling. He was feeling very warm, wondering if it would be out of the ordinary to strip himself of his thick jacket or take his stetson off. </p><p>“You can come to me about anything sweetheart, you know that,” Jack tried to sound like his usual charming self, but he thought he was missing the mark with the way his voice strained, like he was trying too hard. If you noticed, you didn’t flinch, but Jack would never know considering how good your poker face was. </p><p>“I’ve heard some rumours, about the copious amounts of mistletoe scattered around Statesman,” you began, eyebrow raised to look unamused, “apparently it’s somebodies idea of a joke, to get a kiss with someone they fancy. Like this is some kind of kindergarten.”</p><p>Jack swallowed nervously, your stare penetrating deep within him until he began to feel sick. He was caught, and you were going to kill him, <em>actually</em> kill him, and he would simply sit back and let you because he had been so stupid to think he could fool one of the smartest agents in the whole of Statesman into kissing him under some <em>fucking mistletoe</em>. Jack went to speak, an apology or a denial he didn’t know which would come out of his mouth when he opened it, but fortunately for him you interrupted.</p><p>“The thing is, if that is the case, I would hope the perpetrator would recognise that we are all adults here, and go to the person they like and just tell them. Like adults do.”</p><p>Jack’s eyes widened fractionally, the tight grip he had been holding on the arm of his chair loosening ever so slightly as he began to feel himself breathe better. Were you hinting at something? Did he just have to tell you how he felt? He almost dared to hope you reciprocated his feelings. </p><p>“Failing that,” you stood from your chair and walked around the desk to lean against it, directly in front of Jack’s spread legs, “maybe I should make the first move instead.”</p><p>You reached into the back of your jeans and produced a sprig of mistletoe, leaning over to hold it above Jack’s head with a wry smile. Jack was frozen, in disbelief that you weren’t going to kill him, in denial this wasn’t some elaborate hoax to make fun of him. But mostly he was in shock that you had played him from the moment you had entered his office and turned him into a puddle of incompetency. He wasn’t an Agent anymore, he was a nervous schoolboy with a crush.</p><p>You lowered your arm when he still hadn’t moved, throwing it onto the desk to take Jack’s face in your hands and pull him into a frenzied clash of tongue and teeth. That was enough to shock Jack out of his stupor, grabbing your waist to pull you onto his lap and kiss you back equally desperately. He’d already forgotten about his momentary lapse in composure, his mind only filled with you and your mouth on his.</p>
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